The Old and the New -- (By Dwaine)

SeaTac Park might appear to be a new course to the CX newbies. But, in fact, it was a regular on the 1990's cyclocross schedule. The actual newish course, just its second year, is the Frontier Park course just outside Graham. Both courses consisted of primarly single track trails. Both courses offered enough technical challenge to keep me competitive. But they also differed. SeaTac was subject to the near defeaning air traffic noise while Frontier Park, with the presence of vacant barns and outbuildings, gave the feeling of a wooded country farm.

Course knowledge was important for both venues. Trails can lead to bottlenecks and I knew that to be competitive I needed to keep moving. At Seatac I prerode the first corner. Then I prerode it again. I didn't see anyone else studying this corner which, later, became even more evident. The course surface wasn't challenging. But figuring out how to link the sections together while saving energy took some figuring.

The start at SeaTac park used a first lap only course alteration. The first lap only first corner was a tight uphill 180 degree turn. Not every rider seemed prepared for this and I found myself easily at the front with Erik as we exited that first corner. Eric set a conservative pace and I held his wheel for the first half lap but I could feel the riders chomping at the bit behind us. On a short climb at about the halfway point of the first lap their patience gave up. In just a few seconds three or four riders went by as they took the pace up a few notches. I responded too slowly and found myself well back but still in the lead group.

Near the end of that first lap a lead group rider went down. Eric went right and I went left to avoid the rider. I came to a complete top off the trail but was able to resume quickly. Eric hit the deck and required a detangle before resuming the chase. From this point forward I was out of touch with the other racers.

Hurdling at SeaTac Park. Photo courtesy Woodinville Bicycle.

So I focused on racing my own best race. This required balancing the energy usage from the two substantial runups. And finding the few spots where a powerful acceleration could be complemented with a short rest or descent.

To this end I succeeded in maintaining a fast and consistent pace. Eric later reported that, in a places where the course doubled back, he could see me and our gap stayed the same throughout the race. Relative to each other anyway. The leader was well off the front and finished over 30 seconds ahead. I finished alone in second. Eric came in fourth.

Looking back on the day it was no surprise that a mostly singletrack course could be good for me. There were plenty of spots where a little preparation, like preriding that first corner, could even the odds against the power brokers. The winner, of course, probably prepared AND brought the power. But I did do my part. My suffer factor was at ten. (Only Fort Steilacoom Park generates an eleven!) And my tired factor was pegged. After the race I felt like I had given my all and left not even fumes in the tank.

SeaTac Park marked the middle point in my CX season and a time for reflection. I concluded that my improvement curve was still up but that it was becoming less steep. I alco concluded that I was having a great season. In five races I had visited the podium four times. My season points total for the Cross Revolution series was on pace to finish at the top. But finish at the top for Category 3 35+ was something I had done the year before. I felt it was time to step aside and let someone else earn that crown. So I graduated myself to Category 2. Kind of.

My USAC license was still Category 3 and, for USAC races, that's where I would be staying. But I decided that for non USAC races, which often take place on the more technical courses, I would elect to share the course with the Elite riders by changing to Men's Category 1/2 45+. This decision was not taken lightly. Dr. Doane's comment 'Those Cat 2 guys take their racing seriously...' continued to concern me. I needed some time to prepare for the tougher races and lower finish positions.

Men's Category 1/2 45+ starts as the third wave of the Elite race. I would be altering my race day preparation schedule. I would be seeing new faces. And I brought a belly full of nerves to my first Cat 1/2 race start.

Race day also brought the rain. Frontier Park is on what is probably a glacial moraine and the soil is generally well drained. Yet there was still some mud on top where the topsoil was thick. In the places that the course layout included tight corners and the ground was turning slimy, the course was as technically challenging as I've every seen in a CX race. I was able to ride those sections. Barely. I pre rode as much as possible and found that the course was changing from lap to lap. I settled for finding lines that may not have been the fasted but at least weren't the slowest.

Going into this race I did not expect to win. I wanted to get a fair representation of how I faired at this new level of competition. I also had the goal of not getting lapped by the leader of the Open Category 1/2 race. Going into this race my strategy was pretty plain. Race for an hour at the pace I felt I could sustain. And, to give myself a better chance at avoiding a narrow trail bottleneck, execute a start sprint from the last row.

Starting from the back row meant I had a lot of riders to get past to even see the front. The start was on a crowned dirt road with shallow ditches on each side. Which is how I found the space to move forward. By using the right side ditch I found some space. I had to bunny hop some roadside debris and by the time we reached the barriers, which immediately followed the second corner, I was in about 6th or 7th.

Cross Revolution typically uses two successive two by twelves for the barriers. But at Frontier they found four ten or twelve inch logs that resembled barked telephone poles in length and taper. These logs were easily rideable. But the course was slightly uphill and running turned out to be significantly faster. Although I'm typically more efficient when I can figure out how to ride obstacles, I did find a decent technique for the logs that felt good enough to run them every lap.

So I entered those logs easily in the top ten, passed one rider who decided to ride them, and remounted on the other side feeling pretty good about my start. But the course was long and about half way into the first lap it was time to stop following the wheel in front and dial back to a pace I could sustain over the entire hour.

The Frontier Park course took over ten minutes per lap and consisted of mostly trails with plenty of hidden rocks ready to bash an aluminum rim. It also consisted of plenty of short climbs and and opportunities to accelerate and then coast. Over the first few laps I concentrated on finding this eb and flow of effort and recovery. Making sure to miss the rocks and roots. And at about the fourth lap I did find that just right rhythm that allowed me to suffer properly when appropriate but also rest just enough to stay out of the red.

Of course, I was loosing positions. But Mark and Mario cheered me all the way anyway. At the end of the fourth lap I was comfortably in the zone and saw the 'two laps' to go board.

I sat on that data for about two minutes. I hadn't been caught by the leader yet and I decided that I would burn some matches to keep it that way. I clicked my effort level up in an effort to prevent going a lap down. And it worked. For most of that 5th lap I was burning as many matches as I dared and I passed the 'One lap' board before the eventual winner passed me.

After exhausting many matches on lap five, lap six got real tough. But I was slowly reeling in another racer. I closed that gap with about a quarter lap to go and then followed him while trying to regain my composure for the finish. It was not to be. He made his move a little earlier than I anticipated. And when I attempted to respond all I could do was go through the motions. No extra power was available. I was cooked.

After a few minutes of cool down I learned that I had finished 12th of 28.

Not bad. And not lapped.

I was congratulated by a number of people who had taken notice that I was out in my first Category 1/2 race. I also noticed that the venue was markedly different than at the end of a Category 3 race. There were almost no spectators. The sun was setting, it was cold and quiet, and the only action was the Cross Revolution crew continuing to remove the course markings.

As I loaded my gear for the drive home I quietly reflected on my first 'big boy' race. I was pretty pleased to not have embarrassed myself while wearing the Puyallup Cyclopaths jersey. Finishing mid pack felt pretty good. And I was no longer second guessing my choice to self upgrade. Men's Category 1/2 45+ seemed the be a good fit for my skillset. At least when racing on the trail centric Frontier Park course.

My next event will be USAC sanctioned, at my home course of Fort Steilacoom, and I'll be racing with the threes again. I'm hoping that I can parlay some recent racing success back to the venue that usually makes me feel most humble.

Perfect Race -- (By Dwaine)

My last blog spoke of a good finish at Swan Creek Park on a new and some what peculiar course. Since then the Cross Revolution series has returned to the familiar venue at Sprinker Recreation center.

Sprinker never seems to get muddy. A thin layer of grease will form in areas on top of the hard packed ground when the rain is falling. And then, as quick as the rain came, the soil will drain and good traction returns. My daughter, again, accompanied me to the races. This time we remembered to bring her bike and we rode a course sighting lap together. Her wheels were shod with slicks and she managed to, how do we say, exceed their coefficient of friction. Fortunately neither body nor spirit were affected and we continued our sighting lap without further incident.

As the day went on the rain stopped, the sun started, and the course quickly dried. By 11:00 the course was no longer slick and at race time the sun was out.

One of the themes I'm learning this year is the art of racing my own race. I'm learning to keep an eye on the racers around me but to think twice before letting their actions dictate my race pace. At Sprinker I figured even if I lost a few seconds on the faster sections I could make up the difference in 'the pit'. The course layout through 'the pit' forced us to make many tight turns up, over, and through some elevation features. This part was highly technical and usually catches some riders off guard. And it usually plays well to my skillset.

Vintage Sprinker action from 2014. Photo curtesy Mark.

The start of a Cyclocross race is not where we choose to limit our effort. And this year the first corner was metal barricade lined. This corner could be taken pretty fast and was probably the most dangerous place to loose control. My previous good finish did earn me a call up to the second row and I worked hard enough to file into that first corner safely and in 5th or 6th position. Within a lap I was in second and could hear the leader's fans cheering him on. Soon I was hearing those same fans telling me I was 'only ten seconds behind Erik'.

Bending into the fast paved corner was nerve racking. Any mistake and I would have met a metal barrier one-on-one! Photo courtesy Woodinville Bicycle. Image post processing courtesy the author's daughter.

Lap after lap I closed a little bit of the gap in 'the pit' only to see it open right back up at the other end of the course. My pace seemed good and I was confident that when, not if, I finally did close the gap, I would have the gas left in the tank to put up a good fight.

On my second to last lap I bobbled coming out the tiny sand feature. This mistake cost seconds and energy. By the time I regained my composure I was taking the '1 lap' board. I took the first two minutes of this lap at standard pace and then clicked up a gear.

It felt good to put down some power and I thought I was making up some time on Erik. I wasn't slowing for any lapped traffic. I simply rode off into the weeds to get around when necessary. With about one minute to go I got to within a couple seconds of Erik and then I hesitated. I hesitated in passing a lapped rider. I chose the safe route of following the lapper through the corner and setting up a safe pass on the exit. To have a chance of closing the gap I realized, just a second too late, that I needed to aggressively take the inside line and pass the lapper entering the corner.

I did _not_ close the gap to Erik Anderson. I did _not_ show him a worthy sprint. I did finish a close second.

After the race Erik, who I've come to know through Cyclocross racing, was elated. He grabbed the holeshot, lead every lap, and then claimed the win. A perfect race.

My post race celebration was less grand. I played it safe, didn't tangle with another racer in the final 60 seconds of our race, kept the rubber side down, and still finished a solid second. Less obvious, however, was my success at riding at my pace. Despite the smallish gap between me and the leader I didn't get lulled into working past my limit to get to the front and go into the red in the process.

Best of all, though, was the retelling of the race to my daughter on the drive home. Instead of having to explain scrapes and bruises from a failed inside line move gone bad, I extolled the virtues of patience and wisdom in regards to last lap passing. Which was certainly the parent (and cyclist) modeling I hoped she might someday follow.

Swan Creek Park - Cross Revolution - 2015 -- (By Dwaine)

The race course at Swan Creek Park was a bit different than I've ever experienced. The off road portions could accurately be described as single track. With plenty of half exposed rocks and roots. The on road portions were flat, smooth, fast, and numerous. These paved portions of the course comprised about fifty percent of the actual course and included two long straightaways in addition to the many shorter sections.

An odd component of the course was that the paved sections were laid out in a grid. My initial thought was that we were racing on land that was intended to hold homes but that the project was abandoned just after the streets were paved. Later research revealed that these 'streets' have been in place a long time. They are the remnants of a portion of Tacoma's Shalishan housing project that started during World War II. By the early 1950s there were more units than need so about one half of the units were demolished. Over the next 65 years nature took back most of the lots. But the paved streets have waited patiently for the bicycle racers to arrive.

My initial reaction to this 'street' course was dread. I though 'another fast course that allowed the strong road racers to flex their muscle'. Closer inspection of the off pavement sections showed that the course had two faces. The long flat paved sections _did_ favor the power brokers. And the rough single track would allow the more technically inclined riders a place to shine.

For this race day I was lucky enough to have my daughter Dana with me. She helped me pin my number on. (Actually, she wore the jersey and I pinned the number on her. But she let me wear the jersey for the race.) Between the time I scouted the course and started warming up we walked around the area and discovered old hidden sidewalks and half buried metal pipes. She also helped me put my extra wheels in and out of the pits. And she was pretty patient during the boring times, too. So I owe her a big 'Thank you' for helping me out on race day.

Race plan creation usually runs backwards chronologically. For Swan Creek I reasoned that by mid race the field would be strung out a bit and that few drafting opportunities would exist. So by half way I'd have plenty of room on the single track portions of the course. But the first few laps seemed ripe for traffic jams on the narrow single track sections. So I wanted to be in at least the top ten going into the trees on the first lap. And no call up meant that goal would need to be attained from a third row starting position.

When the whistle blew I knew what needed to be done. No saving energy mode. No time to let the race settle down. I sprinted for the full length of the 300 meter start straight and found myself in sixth position going into the first corner. After just a few corners we entered the first of the single track sections and I knew I would be able to ride a more moderate pace for the remainder of the race.

Dwaine rides a less popular line in this corner. Photo courtesy Woodinville Bicycle

For the first lap I raced in fast traffic. The lead group riders were not slowing me in the single track sections and I worked to hold my position on the paved sections. During this lap and the second I was repeatedly impressed by the bike handling taking place around me. Entering a sweeping right hander off one of the fast straights I bumped into another rider as we both aimed for the same line. Both of us stayed cool, we altered our lines a little, I slowed a bit to let him ahead, and we continued on. In another corner I was passed on successive laps by late braking riders. Both times the rider braked later than me, carved up the inside, and left me just enough room to safely navigate the corner. These descriptions sound tame, of course. But during racing conditions with skinny tires on loose soil the difference between making a clean pass and two riders hitting the ground can be the tiniest of mistakes by either of the riders.

For the first two laps I lost a few positions here and there. I was also passing a few riders as they tired or when they chose imperfect lines. By the end of the second lap the lead group was no longer a group. We were now strung out. Which, of course, played to my strengths. I was able to ride the exact lines I wanted through the single track sections. I coasted into the corners to save little bits of energy. My knowledge of the course allowed me to find those little spots where I could pedal on or two revolutions less, use less braking, and save that energy for accelerating onto the next straight away. I was lost in the moment as I refined my riding for maximum efficiency.

And I was lost in the race, as well. My position inside the top ten was solid. But _where_ in the top ten was unknown. With the leaders strung out and also mixed in with slower riders from the previous start, there was no concrete way for me to figure out my exact position. Which was good. I needed to keep focusing on riding efficiency.

One place I was not efficient was the run up. Mark and Mario were present to cheer for me as I climbed that hill. The soil was loose. The grade was steep. And long. I was face down full suffer every time up that hill. To my credit I did recently learn how to properly sling my bike over my shoulder like the pros do and I _did_ carry my bike up the hill every lap. Each of which was a real test of grit and determination.

Sitting in as we pass the potties. Photo courtesy Woodinville Bicycle

At the end of the third lap I was fully into my groove. I knew just where on the course to rest. I saved and used those extra Joules at just the right places. I was completely focused. Until I being unraveled on the finish straight. Over the loudspeaker I heard "...and here comes Dwaine, current leader of Cat 3 35+ ..." I sat up. No riders close ahead. A quick look behind. Then a second. No riders close behind. At which point my thought bubbled exclaimed "Holy Cow! I'm leading!!".

For the next half lap I was jittery. I now knew that the race was mine to lose. I kept reminding myself of what worked for the first three laps. I reasoned that as long as I didn't overextend my efforts I should be able to stay away. Yet it was hard to restrain myself. By the middle of the third lap I settled back down. I was refocused and back to concentrating on the job at hand.

At the beginning of the sixth and final lap I considered my now usual six minute extra effort. No rider was close. Only a big mistake such as tipping over would likely affect my finish position. So, I slowed slightly in the trees to play it safe and hammered on the pavement. Just for good measure I finished as I started; in my best full sprint. (My daughter later commented "Yeah, I saw you finish; the bike was moving all over the place!")

After a race I like to analyze what worked and what didn't. With the analysis of this race and a recent race where I finished 14th I'm starting to distill a little nugget of wisdom. I need to ride my own race. Yes, I sometimes need to extend my effort to stay in a group. Sometimes it makes sense to work a little extra to hold a position. But the big picture is, for me, at my fitness level, my race usually only plays to its full potential if I manage the pace and not let the race manage it for me.

2015_09_26 Windy Ridge Ride - Mt. St. Helens

Author:  Mike Hassur

The plan was to be in Randle at 6:45 AM which dictated that Leon and I were leaving our neighborhood by 5:15 AM.  I hopped into my van and backed out of the garage at 5:15.  Leon was waiting just outside.  He hopped in, and we were on our way (the bikes and gear had been loaded the previous evening).  As usual, the drive to our starting location went by quickly – we visited about all manner of things.  We arrived at Randle at 6:45 AM to find Les and Dwaine pulling in just ahead of us.  We hopped out of the vehicles, used the “Johnny On-The-Job”, and began to discuss how warmly we should dress (the temperature in Randle was in the mid to high 50’s, but we were sure what it would be like up at Windy Ridge).  Eventually, I settled on the following: short sleeved t-shirt, long sleeved t-shirt, long sleeved jersey, and vest - which turned out to be too warm for the climbing portion of the ride but just right when descending from Windy Ridge.

We were on the road by a little after 7:00 AM.  The road leaving Randle is flat for the first couple of miles.  It then climbs fairly steeply to a plateau which again is fairly flat for 6-7 miles until you reach the turn off for Forest Service Road (FSR) #26.  That climb up to the plateau made me take off my vest and deposit it in the back pocket of my cycling jersey.  I always forget how much work that first climb demands.

Riding the plateau above Randle...

 

Starting up FSR #26...

More of FSR #26...

Riding across the plateau was peaceful and beautiful.  Before long, we took the right fork onto FSR #26.  From this point on, it was mostly uphill until we reached Windy Ridge.  FSR #26 is a one lane road (really more like a lane) that ascends through the trees with almost no traffic for about 8.5 miles.  It is really beautiful, peaceful, and deceptively hard.  You are climbing consistently on this road for about 5.5 miles before reaching the high point lookout on FSR #26.  The constant climbing is somewhat tiring; and, just before you arrive at this lookout point, you encounter two really steep climbs that take you up to the lookout.  I went up the first of these two climbs pretty hard (having forgotten about the second).  The second climb is short, but it was long enough to demoralize me when I saw it.  We got to the high point with me bringing up the rear.

Dwaine and Mike:  FSR #26 high point...

Les and Leon...

We stopped, briefly, at this lookout to take some photos.  From there it was probably a half mile of downhill, followed by some flat road and small rollers which took us by the trailhead for the Norway Pass Trail.  The final mile or two of FSR #26 included a couple more gut-bustingly steep climbs before we got to hwy #99.

Les, Dwaine, and Leon heading toward Spirit Lake on Hwy #99...

We took a right onto hwy #99 (by Meta Lake) and started the final 7 mile portion of the climb up to Windy Ridge.  The weather was cooperating (alternating clouds and sun with no rain), the road surface was fine, and there was still very little traffic.  Once again, we were constantly climbing.  It wasn’t steep, but it was tiring.  Not long before we arrived at Spirit Lake; I was following Les, went to stand up, lurched (not gracefully) to the right, caught his back wheel, and found myself lying in the gravel on the shoulder of the road before I knew what happened.  After silently cursing myself for my carelessness; I hopped up, inspected my bike (everything seemed to be fine), and inspected myself (again all was well except for a couple of minor scrapes).  We resumed our ascent, and everything seemed to be going well.  As we rounded the next corner and began a short downhill, I clicked my left shift lever to go to the larger chain ring – AND NOTHING HAPPENED.  Crap.  A quick inspection revealed that my crash had damaged the ratcheting mechanism, and I could no longer shift to the larger front chain ring.

We headed on up to one of the turnouts overlooking Spirit Lake, took some photos and headed on to Windy Ridge.

At Windy Ridge, Les and I went to work on my bike.  Since we knew that it was mostly downhill on the way back (about 1200 feet of climbing in those 36 miles or so), we re-adjusted my front derailleur cable to keep me on the big chain ring in front for the trip back to Randle.  While we worked on my bike, Dwaine decided to climb all of the steps leading up the rather large hill at Windy Ridge – in his cycling cleats!  Leon, stayed on his bike and kept moving.

Dwaine and Mike at Windy Ridge...

Windy Ridge...

It was pretty chilly and windy up there.  I started to feel chilled as we worked on my bike.  As soon as we got my front derailleur cable adjusted (and got Dwaine back down the hill), we put on our wind jackets/vests and headed out.

Mt. Adams as seen from Windy Ridge...

We had a blast flying along the curving descent of hwy #99 to FSR #25.  The few uphills we encountered were negotiated fairly easily in the big chain ring (Dwaine rode all the way back in his big chain ring as well to show his empathy for my situation – thanks, Dwaine!!).  Because the roads were tree lined, the sun had not completely dried out the road surface from the night before.  As a result, Les and I were a little more careful on this long descent.  Dwaine and Leon, on the other hand, may have been equally careful; but they did it at a higher speed than we did!!

We got down the FSR #25, turned left, and took off for the last 20 miles of our trip back to Randle.  Again, most of this was downhill or flat.  There were a few uphills, but they were not steep and were short.  This is a fun section.  It is easy to paceline and go fast.  The problem is the road surface – it is not good.  You have to be very observant and careful to make sure that you avoid the areas in the road that could create problems.  Thankfully, we negotiated this section safely (and fairly quickly) and made it back to Randle in one piece.

I always tend to underestimate this ride.  Each year I think, “I’m in good shape this time of year – this ride will be easy”.  Each year at the end of the ride I’m thinking, “how did I forget from last year how much work this ride is – I’m tired”!!  The ride ended up being about 70 miles and about 7200 feet of climbing.  In addition, our relatively small group had good riders who were well matched; so we cruised along pretty quickly (which I suspect added to my fatigue).

This is a great ride.  Climbing up the single lane FSR #26 is just so cool.  The views on the way to Spirit Lake and Windy Ridge are spectacular (Mt. Rainier, Mt. Adams, Mt. Hood (on a clear day), and the residual damage from the 1980 Mt. St. Helens eruption, etc.).  The ride back from Windy Ridge to Randle provides lots of opportunities for fast, curving descents as well as riding in pacelines (on the lower portions).

Even though I am always tired at the end, this remains one of my favorite rides.

To see all of the photos associated with this ride, click on the following link:  Windy Ridge Ride Photos

Battle at Fort Steilacoom -- (By Dwaine)

Author:  Dwaine Trummert

Readers of this blog may infer that the Battle at Fort Steilacoom was waged against one of the other cyclocross competitors. That is not the case. Long time readers might read between the lines and conclude that the battle was between me and the Fort Steilacoom venue. Yes, my poorest finishes often come at this venue. And I might blog about that statistic on another day. But _this_ post is going to focus on the 44 minute battle of my will against the soil, rocks, sand, hills, grass, and kidney jarring bumps that made up the racing surface for the MFG South Sound Super Prestige cyclocross race at Fort Steilacoom Park.

I don't usually do well when racing at Fort Steilacoom Park. The course description by MFG read:

Another speedsters course, starts fast with a few sweeping turns before turning uphill for long while. The downhill plunge demands attention to your cornering technique; the finish your sprint.

To fill in the detail lets break the course down into sections:

The start/finish straight was paved and fast and not quite long enough to make drafting helpful. Pedal power mattered most. There was no place to rest here.

Smooth grass section was fast and fun

After bending into the first corner the course made a few zigs and zags through a pretty smooth mowed grass field. This section had one corner of concern but was otherwise almost completely open. Acceleration mattered as did raw speed. I found I could coast into the one corner but otherwise I was on the pedals most of the time. Looking back this might have been the place to slow just a tad to save energy for elsewhere on the course.

Next up came the climb. The corner making the transition from flat to ascending allowed me to coast for a second. Then it became each rider's 60 second power to weight ratio that determined their time. I hoped to climb efficiently with a steady effort from bottom to top. But there is no getting around the physics that every watt spent is a fraction of a second shaved. I lost many positions on the first half of the climb and then lost fewer on the second half. I suffered the most at the top of this climb which was a good indicator that I wasn't far off my potential.

The descent seemed the only potential rest period. After a short burst at the top to get up to speed the course wound down for almost a minute which gave legs a well earned rest. Halfway down a deceptively squirrelly corner caught a few riders off guard. Me included. Then the final pitch steepened as it dumped the rider into a ninety degree right hander. Concentration was required in this section as it quickly developed stutter bumps in the braking area and holding on to the bars was no small feat. Because I've studied this descent I regained positions on the descent most every lap.

Lead group in the 1:50 race

Barriers were placed on a short smooth grass section. A short section that divided two sections of long grass field. These long grass sections really defined the course for me. The soil under the long grass was soft. The soft soil and grass required extra effort. And the soil was bumpy. Really bumpy. I tried riding seated for high efficiency but was rewarded by being bounced out of the saddle. I tried clicking up a gear and riding out of the saddle. This saved my body from the violent bouncing. But my tired legs could not handle that much work for that long. I even tried floating my bottom just over the saddle but that solved neither the bouncing nor leg abuse issue. These sections were long enough that they really sapped my energy and spirit. At best, I can say I survived these sections of the course. Barely.

At the end of the second long grass bump section we were asked to re-accelerate back onto the start/finish straight away.

Save for the descent, every section of the course required lots of what I was lacking: sustained power.

Before the race started I figured this course would be a real test of my fitness and grit.

No call up came my way and I was lucky to find a slot in the third row. In the starting grid I finalized my race plan. It was pretty simple. Sprint up the front group on the start. Then hang on as long as possible.

By the second corner I was in 6th or so and content with my position. I worked to hold the wheel in front of me until the climb where I started to bleed positions. On the descent I started passing groups of riders and snuck up to fourth as we entered the corner that ends the descent section. Despite the little bit of rest on the descent I could already tell I was over extending myself. At the barriers I gave up the chase and dialed down to a pace I hoped to hold to the finish. My first lap finished respectively with a time of about 6:50 to the leader's 6:40.

But I was well into the suffer zone. My first lap effort put me into the red and I was paying the price. With a course that offered few places to rest I managed my effort as best I could. The 'bumps' section was especially tough as it required leg power and mental concentration. I was low on both.

My second through fifth laps are not distinct in my mind. My head hung low on the straight. Slobber fell to my frame and shoes. To save energy I used the brakes only during the descent. The climb continued to humiliate me as lead riders from later starts sped by. The bump section jolted my kidneys if I sat and burned my quads if I stood. And I dug deep to provide the effort to keep the bike moving over the soft grass and soil. These laps were about forty seconds slower than my first lap at about 7:30. And I was steadily moving backwards from my high point of 4th position.

The '1 Lap to Go' board never looked so good.

My 'time to go' spot was on the climb. At the halfway up point I popped out of the saddle and started asking my legs for just a few extra watts for just a few more minutes. I was surprised when they responded. My speed was better all the way through the end of the 'bumps' section. I could feel that my body was fading fast just as I entered the start/finish straight for the last time. I looked and felt pretty bad but was able to pedal across the line.

I did not crash after finishing the race. I don't know how. My respiration rate was off the chart. My muscles were shaky. I coasted off the course and then pedaled at 4 mph to my vehicle. Against which I gently leaned Blue Moon and then gingerly laid myself on the ground. Everything hurt. The combination of bumps and pedaling turned my arms and legs to Jello. My skin stung from Blackberry scratches. And sweat was stinging in my eyes. It was a full ten minutes before I was ready to become vertical.

Later that day I learned that I finished 14th. Not my best. And that I was over three minutes behind the winner of my class. Compared to some of my better finishes that was pretty humbling. The 13 riders in front of me were clearly better racers that day. On the bright side my last lap effort had some effect. It dropped my last lap time to about 7:15. It was also on this lap that I put in a good enough time to be 5th on the Strava 'descent only' segment. With only Elite riders posting faster times. That felt good.

But my finish position was not the real story. Getting my butt kicked so thoroughly by the course was the lesson that will stay with me for a while. Damn, that was tough.

2015_09_12 Vancouver to Whistler Gran Fondo (Les Becker's Account)

Author:  Les Becker

I was eager to ride the 2015 Whistler GranFondo since last year I had ridden it on my own and knew it would be much more fun with fellow Cyclopaths. As Mike pointed out (and Leon I believe will give more details), the logistics of transporting and positioning riders, bikes and vehicles was complicated and not w/out glitches. Embedded in my memory is the dark early hours of race day, hunkered down in the Suburban between quiet riders and bikes,  with Tom driving along windy narrow streets trying to get to the starting location. I had finally given up hope of starting on time. Won’t be so bad though; we can still ride together after the masses had left and enjoy the scenery. So I was ecstatic when circumstances fell into place and we found ourselves in position in the 4-4.5 hr corral of the starting line. It was a comfortable 62 deg as the sun was rising over Stanley Park. I suspected we could shave a few minutes off my last year’s time of 4 hr: 39 min.

The racing began as we rode over Lion’s Gate Bridge. Pushing up Hoffman Hill, I’m not sure what grabbed my attention more, the 10% grade or the people lining the street, cheering us and ringing cowbells. It’s a great fantasy to pretend they were there because we were so important. Two lanes of the Sea to Sky Highway were closed to traffic and dedicated to the riders for most of the course and there was never a place requiring us to slow or stop for traffic; very nice! The smooth, steep, sweeping downhills were fast and fun; lots of 45mph+ descending. Of course lots of that was just trying to stay with Dwaine.

We had planned to use only one rest stop on this ride. The salt shed rest stop was approximately one half the way up the final long hill and about 20 miles from the finish, so it seemed appropriate to get water and also visit the Porta Potty if needed. Mike & Leon were up ahead so we were hoping they would stop there and if we could make our stop very quick, might help us to catch up. As the three of us approached we decided the pee-break was not needed. There were a couple girls at the edge of the road with a large water container. So I stopped w/out getting off the bike, holding my uncapped water bottle which they quickly filled with several cups of cold water. As I started moving, I had to close the gap Tom and Dwaine had created (I guess they didn’t stop at all) but was pleased I had gotten the refill so quickly. Sort of like a NASCAR pit stop.

After awhile Dwaine saw Mike & Leon in a large group up ahead so shot up the road to join them. Tom and I eventually also caught up but Dwaine had left that group by then. I started to cramp in my thigh so had to slow down, fortunately didn’t have to stop. I didn’t know how much energy I had left or if the cramps would resume, so my mind was distracted and much of the rest was a blur. Somewhere Dwaine left the group as did Leon, then Tom. I’m not sure where the rest of the group went, I suspect some in front of us but some behind. Anyway I was very happy to ride with Mike and cross the finish line together. More cheering and cowbells! And we all beat the socks off last year’s time since ours ranged 4:03 – 4:06. I was pleased.

Staying at Mike’s condo in Whistler Village (thanks Mike!) made this especially fun. We drank beer at the pub, watched downhill mountain bikers, had dinner at an Irish restaurant, took walks, and saw a black bear on the golf course. We had a great weekend.

2015_09_12 Vancouver to Whistler Gran Fondo (Tom Peterson's Account)

Author:  Tom Peterson

I don’t know how it is possible to keep this blog post about the Whistler Gran Fondo ride short as it seems like so much happened in just 3 days.  Thank goodness I am not a great writer and I have a bad memory so that will help keep it shorter.

I met Mike, Leon, Dwaine, and Les at McDonalds in Federal Way at 9:30 on Friday morning and we were on our way to Vancouver.   Our mission was to drive to Vancouver where we were meeting at a storage facility.  Leon had been told that we could keep our bikes and one of our cars there overnight at no charge and that we could pick them up in the morning at 5:00am.  When we arrived the manager of the facility decided that he wanted to charge us for this and we were worried that he would not be there at 5:00am  when we needed to get our bikes.  We were stuck!  We had the option of paying for the storage and our ride completely depended on this guy waking up in the morning and letting us in at 5:00 when he normally does not open until 9:00am on Saturdays.  We stood in the parking lot for a while and tried to figure out a new plan of action.  It was suggested by someone that maybe we could put all 5 bikes in the suburban and if this could work then we could all ride in the suburban from Whistler to Vancouver the next morning – 5 bikes and 5 people.  We accomplished this crazy task and decided to not use the storage unit and to leave for Whistler where we were staying the night. 

Upon arriving at the amazing town of Whistler (if you have not been there before, it is a must that you visit) we headed to Mike’s condo.  This condo was plush and was such an amazing place to stay (Intrawest Resort Club).  Thank you Mike!  We unpacked and headed to dinner at the Old Spagetti Factory.  After a great meal, we walked back to the condo and discussed the plan for Saturdays ride and the logistics of getting there.  We found a hotel close to Stanley Park (race start line) that had a parking garage and we knew the car would be safe and we would be close to the race start.

Saturday morning I woke up at 3:45 in true Cycloplath fashion.  I had some cereal, dressed and chatted with the others.  This was a big day and I was a little nervous having been told that the team time depended on the 5^thperson on your team crossing the finish line – ugh.  That seemed to be me.  We had loaded our bikes in the back of the suburban the night before and we were ready to hit the road at 4:35.  We had all 5 bikes in the back of the big rig and Les was sitting on the floor of the second row in between the 2 bucket seats.  This was super nice of Les to take one for the team by sitting on the floor for the ride to Stanley Park in Vancouver (no seat belt either). Two thirds of the way on our drive to the start, we were diverted to a side street with a speed limit of 30 mph and traffic.  It was at this time that I began to worry that maybe we would not make the start of the race in time.  All this work and we would be late.  We eventually made it to the hotel, parked the car, and rode to the start line.  I checked the time once we got in place and it said 6:51.  Wow, we still had 9 minutes to spare.  This was a little stressful and it seemed like we had been doing a lot of planning just to get to this point, but thank goodness, the Cyclopaths had arrived and were ready for the race to start. 

It was an absolutely beautiful morning with the temp around 60 degrees and clear skies.  As I waited for the race to start, I started to look around at all the other cyclists which was a little intimidating as they seemed to all have expensive bikes and everyone looked to be in really good shape and strong.  This was starting to look even more like a serious race than I had anticipated.   The race soon started and finally we were on our way.  We all stayed together for quite a while even though the pace seemed very fast to me for the first few miles.  Many riders seemed to be already looking to push a fast pace.  On the first big hill my chain came off and I was behind our group by one hundred yards – ugh – it had begun.  I was worried this was the start of me riding alone and trying to keep sight of the Cyclopaths.  I think they slowed for me or maybe in my panicked state I had gone faster to catch up than I realized.  The race was intense in that I felt like I was not able to look around much at all and that we were often working really hard to go up hill or we were riding downhill at a fast pass.  It was difficult to grab anything to eat and when I did, it had to be ultra -fast.  There were a lot of girls/women riding also which was awesome to see and many of them were serious and tough.  Leon and Mike pulled ahead of Les, Dwaine and I and it seemed like we might never see them again.  Dwaine kept us on a good pace for the first half so that we could maybe have the energy to go a little faster in the second half of the race.  Just over halfway my chain got all goofed up again on a big hill and I fell way behind – ugh again – I was somehow able to catch back up to Les and Dwaine though.  Soon after this while riding up another hill, my bike handlebar bumped Dwaine’s seat as we rode next to each other and this bump caused his seat to break.  The left side of his seat was way lower than the right side.  Dwaine had to ride (sorry) with this weird seat position for the rest of the race.  With maybe 20 miles to go (Best guess for my memory), we spotted Mike and Leon way up ahead.  Dwaine took off like crazy and was sure to bridge the gap between the groups we rode in.  Les and I just looked at each other and thought wow – that was awesome.  Les and I rode on for a little while longer and then I think we began to feel like we had to try to make the leap and see if we could accomplish what Dwaine had done and try to make it to the next group with Mike and Leon and Dwaine unless he was already way ahead.  Les and I made the jump and rode like crazy to catch up to for what seemed like a long time.  We did catch them and both of us were completely dead at this point.  The Cyclopaths were back together again except for Dwaine who was a few hundred yards ahead.  The four of us rode together until the last couple of miles when Leon pulled ahead and I was next with Les and Mike not far behind.  We all finished the ride within 2 minutes and 47 seconds of each other which is amazing with almost three thousand riders and so many good riders.  The finish line made me feel like I was a professional rider for a few seconds with all the people yelling and the grand set up. 

This was truly an amazing ride, experience and weekend.  I had the best time with my fellow Cyclopaths.  What a great group of guys.  I laughed so much all weekend and enjoyed every second of our time together.  The stories and memories are special.  I cannot wait until next year’s ride – hope we all do it again.